Homework Dilemma
by Resa-J
Summary: Prompt: An improbable comedic scene that would NEVER take place in Sanctuary! EDIT: Now redone! Snark, spit, and ice cream. With a touch of fluff.
1. The Dilemma

**Author's Note:** This is the edited version of my lil' ol' first fic Homework Dilemma. Enjoy!  
**Betas:** Bekah See and my cousin Angel. Love you both!  
**Disclaimer:** I'm only gonna say this once (in this fic): I. Do. Not. Own. Sanctuary.

**Prompt:** An improbable comedic scene that would NEVER take place in Sanctuary!  
**Setting:** The Sanctuary, waaay before season one (Ashley is thirteen)  
**FYI: **_Tu-Ansicter_ is a play on the Norwegian _To Ansikter_, meaning "Two Faces." As in Two-Faced Guy.

**ŠÃŊĈŦŨäŘŸ**

". . . The peroxide seems to have an almost nitrogen-like effect. Next is pure chlorine." Helen picked up another test tube, tilting it so that three drops fell into the next puddle in her vast array of petri dishes. She shook it and let it sit for fifteen seconds. "Completely feckless. Now, where is my. . ." she trailed off, looking around at the various bottles and containers. "Bugger." She slid her hands out of the gloves and closed the doors to the mini-chamber, turning around to continue her search and jumped. "Ashley! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

Magnus looked closesly at her daughter and quirked an eyebrow at the girl's expression. "Oh my dear, I don't like that look on your face. The last time I saw it, poor Henry ended up with a concussion." She reached up and turned off the headset microphone that had been recording her findings.

"I. Hate. Middle school."

"Well then, you should be happy that this is your last year there. Now answer my question young lady, are you practicing your martial arts with young Henry?" Her eyes scanned Ashley's posture and facial expression, determining the matter was not something so serious and she could continue in her search for the lithium.

"Noooo. That was _so_ elementary school. And speaking of school, I HATE IT." Ashley pouted, narrowing her eyes. Her mother chuckled at the sight.

"Well now, what would cause such an outburst? You haven't been feeding the class pets to each other again, have you?" Helen scanned the table Ashley was blocking. _I know it's around here somewhere. . ._

"Noooo, that was _so_ _sixth_ grade! God mother, I'm in _eighth_ grade!" Ashley rolled her eyes.

Helen sighed, realizing it would be better for her _Draco Volans_ saliva samples if she got this over with quickly. "Well, are you going to tell me or not?" _There it is!_

Ashley pouted again, and she shifted her weight to her right foot. "I was playing with the other kids, _nicely_, at lunch, when they started talking about their homework."

"Sounds perfectly normal, as far as I can tell. Please continue." _Now if I could just slide a few inches to the right, I could casually rest my hand on the shelf and Ashley wouldn't think I was favouring my work to her callow problems. . ._

"And excuses."

"For. . . ?" _Another five centimetres. . ._

"For not having their homework."

Helen paused. "And this led up to you sneaking up behind me in my lab, how?"

"They asked me what my best excuse was."

"And you said. . . ?"_ Have I missed something?_ She ran the conversation through her head.

_"_I said that my mom's geek werewolf ate it," Ashley mumbled quietly, cringing and dropping her gaze.

"You said what?" Helen leaned closer, partly to hear Ashley's response and partly so she could subtly sneak her hand around_ that darn beaker_.

Ashley looked her mom right in the eye and straightened up with dignity. "I said that my mom's geek werewolf ate it."

Helen's eyes widened. "You said _what_?!" The beaker jerked and wobbled when she snatched her hand back.

"Well, that's my best excuse!"

Shaking her head, Helen said, "And they didn't believe you, right?"

"NO! They didn't! Then they started laughing at me, saying I made up the stupidest excuse ever. I hate middle schoolers!"

"I believe you said you hated middle school. Now you're telling me it's your peers you hate? There is a bit of a difference, you know." Though she'd never admit it, it still frightened Helen a bit when her teen-aged daughter used her mother's 'angry' voice.

Boldly, Ashley proclaimed, "I HATE BOTH."

Wishing she could roll her eyes and not get that horrid 'my-life-sucks-and-all-you-can-do-is-roll-your-eyes-at-me?' scoff teenagers seemed to have perfected over the decades, Helen said, "And why did you come to me? In my lab? You know better than to disturb me at this." She gestured towards the shelf, suddenly remembering the saliva.

"Because I'm MAD."

Helen reached for the beaker of lithium, inwardly shrugging. _Why not?_ "At what? I see no dilemma in your story."

Ashley's mouth dropped open. "Did you even go to middle school? Do you know how embarrassing it is to have everyone laugh at you, thinking God-knows-what about how crazy you are?"

"Well actually, at your age, there was no middle school. I went to finishing school. And, to answer your second question, yes, I do know how unnerving it is. You can't honestly believe that living with my daughter in a huge mansion in the middle of the Old City, with no man around, gets me much respect. And my father was the same. So I've had at least three generations of peers looking at me that way." As Helen finished speaking, she turned around and opened a compartment on the top of the containment box, which she quickly slid the beaker into and shut. Behind her, she heard Ashley's mouth snap closed and her weight shift back to the other foot.

After a beat of silence, Ashley spoke. "So. . . we're losers then, aren't we?" Her voice sounded fairly small.

"Perhaps." Helen smiled a little, turning around just enough to peer at Ashley. "But I prefer the term 'eccentric.' Now, why don't you go do that homework so that you don't have to use any more of those excuses you have piled away, hmm?" Helen faced her saliva analysis again. _Just a few drops. . ._

"What? No ice cream to celebrate our wonderful eccentric-ness?" As Helen turned to look at her daughter, Ashley's eyes widened and she pasted her 'no-really,-I'm-just-an-innocent-teenager' look that she usually saved for the moment before she whipped out her pistol and shot the bad-guy to bloody hell, even adding the fifteen-degree-head-tilt. _Hook, line, and sinker. What flavours do we have in the freezer? I hope Tu-Ansicter has kept away from it._

Helen made a mental note to come back to the analysis as soon as she finished her two scoops of double-fudge-brownie. "I suppose a frozen treat does sound delectable." _Mm, quite._

Ashley grinned. "Mom?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Race you to the freezer." She took off.

Blinking in surprise, Helen's mind computed that last line. "Oh, no you don't!"

From down the hall, Ashley said, "Last one there has to scoop! And wash dishes!"

"You had better wash your hands, young lady! I don't like dirt in my ice cream!" Helen tossed over her shoulder, taking the steps of a staircase that just might have been hidden behind a conveniently placed tapestry.

**ŠÃŊĈŦŨäŘŸ**

**Author's End Note:** Feel free to review. . . ^_^


	2. Appy Birfdah

**Author's Note:** This chapter was only beta'd by my cousin. That means any and all mistakes are solely hers. . . okay, fine. Mistakes are all mine. Happy?  
**Disclaimer:** Okay, I lied. Here's another disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary or Stargate.  
Bonus points if you can spot the allusion!

**ŠÃŊĈŦŨäŘŸ**

"Oh, would you just grow up? Losing a little race due to a hidden passageway is not such a big deal. Don't forget the sprinkles, mom."

"'_Don't forget the sprinkles, mom,'" _Helen mimicked, pulling open the drawer that held all ice cream toppings. "Honestly, I'm not losing my memory with age. I'm only a hundred and forty-six, you know."

"A hundred and forty-seven."

"I think I know my own age, dear." She set the sprinkle-laden ice cream down in front of Ashley.

"Nope." Ashley stuck her caramel-laden spoon in her mouth. "It's yo-ah birfdah, too-dah."

"Don't speak with food in your mouth! And my birthday isn't until tomorrow." Helen sat down with her bowl and spoon, snagging the hot fudge sauce and pouring it liberally on her frozen dish.

Ashley rolled her eyes and swallowed. "It stopped being 'today' about three hours ago. Happy birthday, mom." She took another bite.

Brow furrowed, Helen searched the kitchen for a working clock. _Must remember to tell Henry about that._ Finding one, she muttered, "Well, that can't be right."

Swallowing deliberately, Ashley smirked and said, "Oh yes, it is. I can go get your present, if you want it now."

"Nonsense. You will finish your ice cream and go to bed. It's a school night, for goodness' sake!" _My birthday present? I hope it's not another 'this-is-older-than-you...barely' gift. My fossil collection has grown quite large._

"No it's not. It's Saturday. I'll go get your present." She darted out of the room before Helen could stop her. _Saturday? Maybe my mind _is _going._

She sat pondering just how _much_ of a pain it would be if she had to step down from the Sanctuary due to insanity for a full three minutes before Ashley came back.

"Here it is!" She set a brightly wrapped box-shaped package beside the half-melted ice cream. A large purple bow flopped over the sides, which was quite a feat, considering the box was about twelve inches by thirty-four centimeters. "Come on, open it!" Ashley bounced with excitement.

Warily, Helen eyed her daughter. _If this is another dead dinosaur, she'll be sweeping the cages on level three for a month._ She turned cautiously to the bow, poking it experimentally. It popped back to place, looking for all the world like that thing the Australian Sanctuary had discovered last April. This thought in mind, she gently and carefully lifted the purple mass off of the Santa Clause covered parcel. "Yeah, I couldn't find any other kind of paper to cover this with," Ashley explained, shrugging.

"That's all right. I'll inform Ryan when he comes next week." The elder woman turned back to Santa. She could feel her daughter's impatience, but still moved slowly in undoing the tape. Eventually, she uncovered a spine; it was not a box after all, but a book. A fairly large one. _Interesting_. She removed the rest of the wrapping with more haste, uncovering a photo album. She cast a confused glance up at Ashley.

"Open it!" Her grin was huge and filled with pride, and the bouncing increased two-fold.

Helen lifted the cover. Inside was a message written in Ashley's scrawl:

_Dear Mom,_

_Hope you like this. Do you have any idea how hard it was to catch you off guard 147 times?! Seriously, you should totally smile more._

_Love,  
Ashley, Henry, James, and the rest of the Sanctuary staff and guests._

"Yeah, we sent Steve around with a camera, following us for the past year. Er, following you, I guess. Trying to get you when you were in a happy mood. Uncle James helped, he kinda had the idea, actually. Do you like it?" Ashley had stopped bouncing, and held stock still as she waited for an answer.

Helen looked up at the teenager, then back down to the pages, turning to the first photographs. The top one was of her and Ashley; they were giggling at some old hats she'd dug out of her attic to dust and sell. In the lower corner was one of her reading a letter. She was laughing at the contents. _That was from James. He'd mentioned an article he'd read about the ancient Pyramids being used for alien landing pads._ She flipped the page. Two of her and Ashley, one with Henry, and one of the three of them. The next several pages held more of the same, or of her with various guests of the Sanctuary.

Timidly, Ashley prodded, "Well?"

"I love it, Ashley." Helen pulled her close for a hug, smiling widely. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Hey, I uh, helped, too, you know," a male voice sounded from the doorway.

Helen snorted. "Come here, Henry." She hugged him as well, creating a group-hug effect. She felt Ashley nudge Henry in the shoulder. From that cue, they started singing, loud and off-key.

"Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, dear Mo-om, happy birthday to you!"

Ashley spoke up, "We wanted to make you a cake, but we couldn't fit all the candles on the top. So you'll have to be happy with the ice cream."

Tears started to fill Helen's eyes. "Oh, darlings, I am very happy with just the ice cream. Thank you very much for this little celebration." Blinking to clear the moisture, she cleared her throat and closed the album. "But you have to wash the dishes."

The smile dropped from Ashley's face as Henry laughed. "What? But I won the race!"

"But it's my birthday. And besides, I have pictures to look at."

"That's not fair!"

"Life's not fair."

"You are so lucky it's your birthday. . ."

"Or else what?"

"I. . . don't have to tell you. So there."

"Quit stalling."

Ashley stuck her tongue out and grabbed the bowls and spoons. "Oh, no you don't," she said to Henry, who had tried to sneak out of the room. "You're drying."

Helen just laughed and opened the album again. _Ah, family is wonderful._

**ŠÃŊĈŦŨäŘŸ**


End file.
